Out of mind

Out of mind

Judging by the look on the organ-grinder,
He'll judge me by the fact that my face don't fit.
It's touching that the monkey sits on my shoulder.
He's waiting for the day when he gets me,
But I don't need no alibi - I'm a puppet on a string.
I just need this stage to be seen.
We all need a pantomime to remind us what is real.
Hold my eye and know what it means.

I'm out of my mind.

Judging by the look on the organ-grinder,
He'll judge me by the fact that my face don't fit.
It's touching that the monkey sits on my shoulder.
He's waiting for the day when he gets me,
But I won't be your concubine - I'm a puppet not a whore.
I just need this stage to be seen.
Won't you be a friend of mine to remind me what is real?
Hold my heart and see that it bleeds.

I'm out of my mind.
James Blunt
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# Posté le dimanche 10 septembre 2006 16:25

How you remind me

How you remind me

Never made it as a wise man
I couldn't cut it as
A poor man stealing
Tired of living like a blind man
I'm sick of sight without
A sense of feeling
And this is how you remind me

This is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you
A heart worth breaking
And I've been wrong
I've been down
Into the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream
Are we having fun yet?

Yet, yet, yet, no no
Yet, yet, yet, no no

It's not like you didn't know that
I said I love you and
I swear I still do
And it must have been so bad
'Cos living with him must have
Damn near killed you

And this is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you
A heart worth breaking
And I've been wrong
I've been down
Into the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream
Are we having fun yet?

Yet, yet, yet, no no
Yet, yet, yet, no no
Yet, yet, yet, no no
Yet, yet, yet, no no

Never made it as a wise man
I couldn't cut it as
A poor man stealing
And this is how you remind me
This is how you remind me

This is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you
A heart worth breaking
And I've been wrong
I've been down
Into the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream
Are we having fun yet?

Yet, yet
Are we having fun yet?
Yet, yet
Are we having fun yet?
Yet, yet
Are we having fun yet?
Yet, yet
No, no, no
Nickelback
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# Posté le dimanche 10 septembre 2006 15:47

Modifié le dimanche 10 septembre 2006 16:10

Poem

Poem
One Inch Tall


If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.

If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You'd swing upon a spider's thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.

You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.
You'd run from people's feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write--
'Cause I'm just one inch tall).

Shel Silverstein
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# Posté le vendredi 07 juillet 2006 08:17

Modifié le vendredi 07 juillet 2006 08:40

Sunday Bloody Sunday


I can't believe the news today
Oh, I can't close my eyes
And make it go away
How long?
How long must we sing this song?

Broken bottles under children's feet
Bodies strewn accross the dead end street
But I won't heed the battle call
It puts my back up
Puts my back up against the wall

And the battle's just begun
There's many lost, but tell me who has won
The trench is dug wuthin our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters
Torn apart

Wipe the tears from your eyes
Wipe your tears away
Oh, wipe your tears away
Oh, wipe your bloodshot eyes

And it's true we are immune
When fact is fiction and TV reality
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die

The real battle just begun
To claim the victory Jesus won
On...

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

U2 - Sunday Bloody Sunday
Sunday Bloody Sunday
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# Posté le vendredi 07 juillet 2006 08:00

Modifié le vendredi 07 juillet 2006 08:16

-//ss(°)ss//-

-//ss(°)ss//-
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# Posté le vendredi 07 juillet 2006 07:48